i dont even remember writing this so that should already tell you how this is going to be. having that knowledge, read it anyways because it rly is one of my faves.

she is a girl in my class and she is crying because her teacher cared enough to take away the buzzing phone that if answered, would only lead to late night cram sessions and bitten fingernails
“this is so not fair”
he is a boy at my bus stop and he never says hi to the driver but throws a quick fuck you when she doesn’t wait the extra 5 minutes he uses to sleep in the bed of a house that he’s never had to worry about keeping
“that was so not fair”
they are the people around me, they are the people i love, they are my people and i am trying to avoid cram sessions and still answer the buzzing of problems i wish i had as they come to me one, three, ten in my inbox
they are my people and i am offering to drive them there and back taking friendship instead of cab fare and i am worrying about who is eating and i’m not sleeping till everyones sleeping and i am doing homework that isn’t even assigned to me and yet
“life’s so not fair”
don’t tell me what unfair feels like because i am not allowed my love for peach flavored skin and delicate fingertips, because my poems would be more accepted if they were about mean calloused hands and the smell of leather seats
don’t tell me what agony is, my bed is so cold and he was so warm and now the only thing im waking up with is a name stuck on repeat in my head and the memory of a smile in every single shadow
no instead how about i tell you a little something about ignorance
about how easy it is to pretend you don’t remember just how those bruises on your knuckles got there since you’ve already forgotten the hour you spent hitting the wall trying to feel something on the outside that could even compare to the inside
about how kissing a pair of lips that’ll just be another forgotten memory in the morning is completely okay even if you are imagining a separate pair the whole time
about how love only hurts if you let it it only hurts if you let it it only hurts if you let it it only hurts if
shit i think i might’ve fucking let it
people say move on like its fucking easy
people talk about forgetting something that they never remembered anyways
people forget that you really can die from a broken heart
i think that’s why i have a crater in my stomach that grows bigger each time he doesn’t say it back
and why my whole body shakes just thinking about his arms around another waist, his fingers laced between another set, his words sounding the same to another pair of ears
is this what love is, feeling like a volcanic eruption at the first glance of him and like a drowning ship at the last
is this what love is, the possibility of him wanting you back sending shivers down your spine and the never ending headache all made up of thoughts of him him him
is this what love is, is love supposed to be me vomiting up words to try and make sense of the idea that even in the chance that yes he wants me back, that even then there still would be nothing we could do about it, the bed would still be empty, the lips would still be someone else’s, and the ache would still be drilling holes in my chest
i ask because mom always told me to fight for what i love, but how do i fight a battle that i know i won’t ever win
how do i justify yearning to give all i have even when i know what i have does not begin to cover what is deserved
where does it make sense for me to try to hold on to something that i always lose
the answer is i cant
the answer is i wont be able to
the answer is it doesnt
the answer is if you don’t want your heart to hurt, you might as well not have one